


i had my cake

by nickgrimshawty



Category: Lovecraft Country (TV), Lovecraft Country - Matt Ruff
Genre: F/F, our witches get crochety
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-29
Updated: 2020-10-29
Packaged: 2021-03-08 20:40:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,859
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27262888
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nickgrimshawty/pseuds/nickgrimshawty
Summary: i love little edie. i love big edie. i decided to try to do a rubtina grey gardens because they would be horrible old people
Relationships: Ruby Baptiste/Christina Braithwhite, Ruby Baptiste/Christina Braithwhite/William
Comments: 5
Kudos: 48





	i had my cake

The paperboy of Hyde Park had no intention of delivering this mail. Standing outside a mega mansion covered in thick black vines and bushes nearly his height, he felt sure no one lived here despite the subscription. The house looked so old, not updated at all. He turned to leave when he heard a growling that seemed to be coming from…underneath. He looked down at his feet, but heard rustling behind him and whirled around. An elderly black woman was standing behind him holding some kind of plant. The paperboy felt frozen, maybe with surprise or guilt at running into someone actually living there.

“What are you doing here, boy?” the woman questions him.

The paperboy held up the papers in defense. “I’m just here with your paper ma’am. Honest. I was looking for the front door.”

She purses her lips and stares at him for a second. Her eyes were a deep warm brown, her skin weathered and head wrapped into some weird sweater hat scarf. He holds out the paper to her, and she doesn’t take it.

“I see. Well, it’s settled then. Come in for a snack and bring your paper with you.”

She turns before he can answer and walks into the thick thistle of yard she had probably come from. The paperboy blanched but began to follow behind the old woman. “I really can’t stay. I have an entire route. I’ll just give this to you and go…” he trails off as they arrive at the end of the forest trail. Up this close the mansion was even more menacing. He almost couldn’t believe this pretty clean old lady lived in here. She keeps walking and calls to him,

“Don’t even worry. We’ll call for you. We know Mr. Azim well, he won’t mind.”

Mr. Azim was dead. That was awkward to broach so he ended up following her onto the porch with his mouth open. There was a loud bang and then a sizzling sound from inside the house as they stepped up and he backed away. Placing the paper on the ground gingerly, the paperboy started leaving without a word.

“Wait!” The woman held out a hand. Her eyes were pleading, and they were beautiful but this paperboy did not have time for this.

“It’s a special occasion. And my wife…she always struggles with this particular day.” She says, looking down.

The mention of her wife had piqued the paperboy’s interest and stopped his retreat. Wife? The old woman was definitely a woman herself. Chicago had its queer scene, especially now in 2004, but he hadn’t been allowed to openly find community. Not as long as he was in his father’s house.

“There really are snacks,” the woman sings in a surprisingly melodic tone.

Hell, he might as well. He was curious now, and the job paid shit. He turns around and follows the old woman inside, matching her smile with a cautious one.

“I can only stay for a little bit.” He decides to go ahead and set up his exit. She doesn’t answer and the door bangs shut behind them as if pushed. The paperboy has his mouth open again. It was beautiful inside. It had a gorgeous open layout, with crisp updated furniture. There was even updated appliances. This was so weird. He continued following the woman down the hallway, blown away by the beautiful soft blues and creams that lay behind those dreadful black vines outside. Though he had to admit there was a dusty, ‘old people candles’ smell about the place.

“Who is this then?” The voice startles him and its coming from a giant foyer to the left of him.

A white woman was perched in a tattered chair that was in glaring opposition to the rest of the furniture. She had white blonde hair, cut into a pixie sort of style, but it looked unkempt. She was wearing shoes inside her own house which seemed odd. The lady next to him turned and said, “Actually, what is your name, dear?”

“You don’t know?” the blonde woman drawls, “This is a stranger, isn’t it?”

“I’m Jordan?” the paperboy answers, a little scared. The blonde blinks and stands up from the seat and walks out of the room.

Her wife turns to Jordan. “Well, Jordan it is nice to meet you. I’m Ruby, and that was Christina, who is going to _come back in here and have the wonderful desserts I made_ ,” Ruby raises her voice for emphasis and there’s a grumble behind Jordan, scaring him again. He whips around and the blonde is standing behind him with her hands in her pockets. She arches an eyebrow at his response, and now Jordan can see she has icy cold cerulean eyes, but her stare was like blue fire.

Ruby leads them to the kitchen, Christina grumbling “No, I’m Mrs. Braithwhite-Baptise,” at Jordan as she follows behind him.

“He’s not saying all that,” Ruby quips back. They stop in the kitchen, and Ruby had been true to her word. Nearly every surface in the large kitchen was covered with sweets and pastries. Jordan was not a huge dessert person but even his mouth was watering at the sight of all the brightly colored treats, and fluffy breads.

“Help yourself, honey.” Ruby pats his back as he takes a seat.

“Thank you. This looks so good.” Jordan picks up a cake that looks particularly creamy and yummy. It had a golden-brown crust with real fruit pieces on top and peeking out in the cake. Grabbing a fork, Jordan dug in taking a huge chunk and sinking it into his mouth.

“Mmmmm…” he moans in disgust as the taste of the pie settles into his mouth. He just barely manages to control his expression into a weak smile, but swallowing the pie was not easy. Finally done swallowing and gagging mentally, he looks across the table at Ruby, who is giving him a delighted grin. She really was a beautiful woman. But was the milk for this pie expired? Why was it chunky and milky?

“What an…interesting flavor,” he offers. Ruby nods.

“Yes. I only use the best eggnog in the country, no, the world. Bennigan’s. We trust that man. We love that man, don’t we darling?” Ruby says to Christina.

Christina was not in the kitchen, and Ruby does not turn to look for her response. _Who the fuck was Bennigan’s_? _That was definitely expired_ , Jordan decided. He was polite but not that polite. He abandoned his fork and reached for one of the pre-packaged desserts that looked safe. He noticed Ruby was just sitting there staring at him, making no move to do anything else or eat herself. Was she poisoning him? Jordan had started to notice details that confused him. For one, Ruby herself. The scarf around her head looked bulky with multiple broaches pinned into it. She was wearing a dress, so formal it was weird for the setting, a bright sparkly red number and she had big breasts he could see clearly in the dress, their smoothness contrasted by her wrinkly neck. She had a sweater tied around the waist on the fancy dress. Then, there were a lot of cabinets in the kitchen that were open. Why didn’t she just close them? Biting into the little chocolate candy he had chosen, Jordan was greeted with the disgusting taste of vodka and cherry mingling with the chocolate and he nearly gagged again. She might be poisoning him. Ruby was still smiling.

“Now that we got from Russia, straight from the Yahontov family,” Ruby smiles to herself looking through Jordan now. “They were surprisingly tolerant and open-minded for their time.”

Jordan wasn’t sure what that meant but the candy did seem to be fancy. She meant no harm, so he remained seated but didn’t reach for anything else. He needn’t have worried because within moments Ruby is sliding a little dish in a sundae glass toward him. It looked like whipped cream, but Jordan was starting to know better. There was some type of candy or no, fruit again, in the cream as well. “Um…what is it?” he asked, because he was done taking chances.

“My famous prune whip,” Ruby answers, brightly. Prunes?

“These are my special prunes, made right here from our own plums, blood plums. That’s what makes mine so bright.” She gives another toothy grin, seemingly waiting for Jordan to dive in to the worst thing he ever never imagined. He couldn’t. He cleared his throat.

“They were famous?” he asks instead of eating, and Ruby brightens even more. “Are. Are famous,” she corrects.

“And yes.” She smiles smugly. “My prune whip became the dessert of the resistance after I served the S.S. Proserpina’s commander a special deadly blend and helped turn the tide of the whole galactic election. None of them had ever had anything like it, of course, and were hooked. You should have seen their little arms, shoveling as much as they could in their little eye sockets,” she chuckles. “Well you know how that is,” she finishes, still smiling to herself.

Jordan did not know how that was. Before he could ask his follow up question, the soft voice of Christina came from behind him, scaring him again. His nerves were slowly falling apart here.

“Here.” Her wrinkly hand was gripping a glass filled with a bright orange liquid with a celery placed in. The drink was the brightest orange and when Jordan tentatively took the glass from Christina, the hot temperature was even more shocking. Placing it gingerly on the table like it was a bomb, Jordan asked what was in it.

“It isn’t a bloody Mary but it isn’t toxic,” came Christina’s reply.

 _Then why the celery_ , Jordan wondered. That was too loose of a description for Jordan and before he could express this, Ruby slides back into the kitchen after apparently having left and sings huskily “Zoo wee zoo bop!” She had changed into a bright golden formal dress identical to the red otherwise, her scarf removed to reveal shoulder length curly hair. She had tied the sweater around her waist again.

“Now is as good a time as any to show Jordan some good music! I’m in a celebration mood so I’ll give you a freebie performance,” she winks at him and leaves.

“Don’t forget your drink.” Christina says as she follows Ruby out.

Ruby’s in the middle of the large sitting room fiddling with a record player in the corner. Jordan looks around as he walks in, sitting down on a white chair close to him. Gold records line the walls in here, and a dusty Grammy snapped in half lays on the fireplace mantle. He feels the chair give way in the middle and suddenly he’s completely sunken into the chair. It’s like the chair deflated, but he’s fallen so deeply into the center the sides of it seems to be around him and he swears it starts to squeeze. A white arm pulls him out by his t-shirt almost as soon as it happens and Jordan jumps up to standing, breathing in little gasps. He feels ridiculous when he sees the unimpressed look Christina was giving him. The music finally starts then, a tinky little sound coming from the record player, barely louder than Jordan’s wheezing.

“There now, that’s better,” Ruby smiles, walking over to Jordan with a little sway.

“I really have to go –” he starts, but Ruby shakes her head.

“Don’t sweat that. We just recently did the renovations, and It does not agree with the new furniture. We still haven’t reached a compromise.” She shrugged, which turned into a little shimmy as she smiled wider. Christina snorts behind her.

“Sit down.” Christina ordered from behind him. “It will be okay,” she assures.

Jordan reluctantly does as he’s told and this time the chair remains firm. Ruby begins her performance and Jordan becomes increasingly unsettled. Ruby Braithwhite-Baptise has a beautiful voice with perfect pitch, but she has lost the ability to extend a single note. Jordan had not been able to distinguish the subject of the song, because nearly every line was interrupted by Ruby coughing roughly for a couple seconds and then continuing on. Her small dance moves she was adding didn’t seem to help her oxygen content either. The background music coming from the record player was so quiet it was nearly nonexistent, especially with Christina loudly clapping along the whole time, completely off beat. Maybe it was on beat. The beat had not arrived as far as Jordan could tell. Between Ruby’s disjointed singing and Christina’s repetitive clapping, Jordan wasn’t sure why he was still here. This was borderline creepy. Christina was clapping and watching Ruby perform without blinking. Her weird pirate-esque shirt sleeves had some type of red liquid on them. Jordan decided this was his last experience with the Baptist Brightwittles and he was going to leave as soon as the song was over.

Ruby must have performed several songs. They never became more structured and in fact continued to deteriorate, but Jordan was aware he had been sitting there for at least a half hour listening to Christina clap. When finally, the performance seemed to an end, both Jordan and Christina gave Ruby a standing ovation while she beamed.

“Thank you for everything, really,” Jordan started. “I have to get going now.”

“Oh, alright,” Christina says, as if her and Jordan had been in a conversation, “I do have something you can help me with since you want to learn. Follow me.”

“Here you go.” Ruby says, rolling her eyes. “He can learn,” Christina insists standing, “What are you, twenty-eight?” she asks looking Jordan up and down.

“He is fourteen years old!” Ruby snaps hotly.

“I’m eighteen and I’m about to graduate,” Jordan interjects, but Christina doesn’t listen to the end and walks away. Ruby hooks her arm into Jordan’s and they start to follow Christina down the hallway, but as they both walk they slide on some type of goo covering the hallway floor. Jordan catches himself on a hallway table while Ruby leans against the wall, hand on her chest.

“Dammit, Christina!” she calls after getting her bearings.

“I had to make sure they were acclimating to the soil!” Christina calls back from somewhere.

With a sigh and a grumble, Ruby continues down the hall and Jordan follows. They step into a very small stone room, with fluorescent overhead lighting and wooden benches and tables along the walls. “It’s repurposed, blessed wood from the Congan princess of Avalon,” Ruby whispers to him. Christina is stomping around the room, opening drawers and cupboards gathering supplies. She opens a steaming chest and pulls out some plants. Placing a mortar and pestle in front of Jordan and a handful of the plants she orders, “Mash it up. Keep doing it until its mush.” Jordan does it. At this point, he’s scared again. He should have remembered stranger danger. He was in a stone room with no windows and one door. He was going to die here. As he’s grinding, a thick photo album is shoved under his nose, already opened to a beautiful professional concert poster with Ruby right there on it, name big across the page. She was very young and looked beautiful, her skin smooth and dark, her lipstick bright like her eyes. “Sold out. This was my big concert in Madison Square. The Queen of England came.” Jordan was blown away by the picture.

“You’re so fabulous,” he gushes and Ruby chuckles and turns the page, and there is young Christina. This picture is in black and white but she looks beautiful too, hair coming up as bright white in the picture and her eyes a translucent gray. She’s holding a chubby brown baby in the picture and beaming.

“Keep grinding,” Christina snaps, as Jordan looks intently at the pages Ruby is showing. “I know I’m unrecognizable now that I’m an old hag.” Christina says, bitterness evident in her voice.

“You’re beautiful, baby.” Ruby replies lightly, continuing to flip through the pages. She gets to a page of a family, three brown children and Ruby and Christina on either side of them. Ruby is holding a baby in the picture and they all have on white ski outfits with thick goggles. There was definitely snow on the ground, but Jordan wondered what type of filter was on the picture, as he could swear the snow seemed a pale pink and the sky a bright purple. The little boy in the picture had sandy blonde hair and tan skin while the little girl Christina had on her lap had dark caramel skin with brown hair and Christina’s bright blue eyes. Jordan wondered how they got children that looked like such a perfect blend of the two of them, when surely, they had to have donors of some sort. His heart constricts at the beautiful rarity of this moment. Older gay people with a family and happiness, like he wanted for himself.

“Our babies. Here we are when they were little, this was their first Equinox...” Ruby beams at the page before turning to the next picture. This one features the children older and Jordan could see they have two boys and one girl. Christina wasn’t in this picture, but Ruby was, holding hands with their youngest son wearing a Mickey Mouse hat. A man that resembled Christina was in the picture smiling too and Jordan realized this must be who their donor was, probably Christina’s brother.

“Keep grinding.” Christina snapped again. Jordan had completely stopped again and it was only slightly an accident, as the more he ground whatever plant this was, a disgusting pungent smell was beginning to rise to his nostrils. “Stop showing him the ungrateful brat montage,” she gripes at Ruby.

“Shut up!” Ruby’s face becomes stormy. “They are not brats. They are artists,” she says, sounding like she’s said this many times.

“You take your family to Keplar 16b for their summers and apparently they haven’t seen enough of the world.” Christina continues, and starts chopping into a different plant aggressively on the table in front of them.

“Hush, Chris.” Ruby rolls her eyes and turns the page.

“Is Keplar 16b in Ibiza?” Jordan asks, and Ruby is right behind him with, “And it wouldn’t kill you to show them how proud you are.” She snaps. 

“Thousands of dollars and two apartments doesn’t say enough?” the blonde said without turning around to face Ruby. “They’re spoiled,” she sighs.

“They are not spoiled.”

“You only say that because you’re the one who did it.” Christina’s voice becoming frustrated again and rising. She stopped chopping the plant and was staring forward at the plain stone wall. What was about to happen? Jordan was nervous and began to grind in fervor again, hoping this would please Christina, who had seemed unstable from the beginning.

“Here’s our grandbabies.” Ruby showed him another picture, paying Christina no mind.

Jordan hardly looked at the picture as the smell of what he was mushing became almost unbearable. He was suddenly light-headed and nauseous. He was blinking water out of his eyes as the two wives began to bicker again.

“We never see them anyway,” Christina harrumphed.

“Perla is coming home with the boys this Christmas! She called and promised me.” Ruby insisted. This seems to stay Christina, and she went back to chopping the plant quieter though her shoulders were still tense. Suddenly, there was a cacophony of noises from upstairs and Jordan jumped again. It sounded like pots banging and chairs dragging.

“Dammit, we need quiet for this.” Christina turns and glares at Ruby.

“You know I have to start dinner.” Ruby replies, unfazed by her annoyance.

Dinner? That sent a lightning rod into Jordan and he stood up again. No more Mr. Nice Guy.

“You’re doing all this for a damn birthday party no one is coming to,” Christina was saying and Ruby cuts her off with a groan, throwing her hands up.

“Of course. No one is coming, every year no one is ever coming.”

She turns exasperated and leaves the room. As she leaves, Jordan follows her out. He’s decided against announcing his departure until his hand is on the doorknob. They were masters of distraction. He books it down the long hallway, Ruby nowhere to be found. The hallway goo is gone and there are still loud noises coming from the kitchen, and now an aromatic smell too. As he nears the door, he notices the table he had grabbed onto earlier, and he watches in horror as the cabinet swings open. Stopped in his tracks and open-mouthed, he watches as the couple of papers resting on the table stack themselves into organization, slide into the cabinet and the cabinet bangs shut. Feeling the air swoosh out of his lungs and hardly believing what he saw, he hears a scratching and a croaking coming from behind him. Turning while shaking uncontrollably, he sees some type of black bat, no not bat because he saw legs and a build like a human. But the monster had a little tail and little black wings. It was dragging itself toward him, covered in mucus, and moaning. He lets out a deafening scream and Ruby’s “Did that thing get out again?” is punctuated by a hard and loud knock at the door.

Witnesses! Jordan runs to the door and pushes past the small group of people waiting there with balloons and wine. He distantly overhears a man remark, _cousin you got some gray hairs? That’s what you get!_ … before he takes off down the street running as fast as he can.

The mansion in Hyde Park sits completely dark now, save for a few candles lit in the expansive bathroom. The two wives sit back to front in their claw tub. Christina leans back further into Ruby’s arms, closing her eyes when Ruby kisses along her shoulder.

Sighing contentedly, she says somewhat sheepishly, “Thank you for my party. I’m sorry I get like this every year.”

Ruby lets out a low chuckle and hums, placing more kisses along the back of Christina’s neck, moving to her ear and feeling her shiver beneath her. They both knew Christina was going to keep being like this every year until they were both dead.

“You know, you spoil me too,” Christina smirks. “Always trying to make me feel better. Your little paid actor this afternoon.”

“Huh?” Ruby starts, but Christina’s mood had already swung.

She takes a shuddering breath and says, “Am I still everything you wanted? Watching me die and shrivel up?” Her voice is small.

“Yes.” Ruby answers immediately. Christina seems relieved which was silly. “I love you, baby.” Ruby continues.

Christina twists around and kisses Ruby, cradling her face for a moment. “I love you too.”

“Thank you for choosing me. Saving me.” Christina whispers, staring intensely into Ruby’s liquid mahogany eyes feeling safe and whole.

They kiss again and Ruby whispers into Christina’s hair, “Thank you for choosing me.”


End file.
